UC-NRLF 


SB    27 


O 


GIFT  OF 
Class   of   1900 


;:' 


•— "^•^•^  —^—*———  -         _.     .        ,  -I 

'heEiibaiyat  of  OhowDryyam 


IllustratedlyBenj.BranUin 

[not  oP  -Philadelphia 


Copyrighted  1922 
by  LEEDON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


LEEDON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

405  FLOOD  BUILDING 

SAN  FRANCISCO 


THE 

RUBAIYAT 

OF 

OHOWDRYYAM 

By  J.  L.  DUFF 

With  Apologies  to 
OMAR 


Illustrated  by 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 

[Not  of  Philadelphia} 


\ 


The  cR^ubaiyat  ofOhow  T>ryyam 


i 

Wail !  for  the  Law  has  scattered  into  flight 
Those  Drinks  that  were  our  sometime  dear 

Delight; 

And  still  the  Morals-tinkers  plot  and  plan 
New,  sterner,  stricter  Statutes  to  indite. 


-  •  II 

***       *t  »*««*:  j  • 

After  me  phantom  of  our  Freedom  died 
«':  i'M.tfthjQijgb'tva. Voice  within  the  Tavern  cried: 
"Drink  coffee,  Lads,  for  that  is  all  that's  left 
Since  our  Land  of  the  Free  is  washed — and 
dried." 


And  still  the  Morals-tinkers  plot  and  plan 
New,  sterner,  stricter  Statutes  to  indite. 


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THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYYAM 


III 

The  Haigs  indeed  are  gone,  and  on  the  Nose 
That  bourgeoned  once  with  color  of  the  rose 
A  deathly  Pallor  sits,  while  down  the  lane 
Where  once  strode  Johnny  Walker — Water 
goes. 

IV 

Come,  fill  the  Cup,  and  in  the  Coffee-house 
We'll  learn  a  new  and  temperate  Carouse — 

The  Bird  of  Time  flies  with  a  steadier  wing 
But  roosts  with  sleepless  Eye — a  Coffee  Souse  1 


Each  morn  a  thousand  Recipes,  you  say — 
Yes,  but  where  match  the  beer  of  Yesterday? 
And  those  Spring  Months  that  used  to  bring 

the  Bock 
Seem  very  long  ago  and  far  away. 


The  Bird  of  Time  flies  with  a  steadier  wing 
But  roosts  with  sleepless  Eye — a  Coffee  Souse! 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYYAM 


VI 

A  Book  of  Blue  Laws  underneath  the  Bough, 
A  pot  of  Tea,  a  piece  of  Toast, — and  Thou 

Beside  me  sighing  in  the  Wilderness — 
Wilderness?  It's  Desert,  Sister,  now. 

VII 

Some  for  a  Sunday  without  Taint,  and  Some 
Sigh  for  Inebriate  Paradise  to  come, 
While  Moonshine  takes  the  Cash  (no  Credit 

goes) 
And  real  old  Stuff  demands  a  Premium. 


A  Book  of  Blue  Laws  underneath  the  Bough, 
A  pot  of  Tea,  a  piece  of  Toast, — and  Thou  .  .  . 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYYAM 


VIII 

The  Scanty  Stock  we  set  our  hearts  upon 
Still  dwindles  and  declines  until  anon, 

Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face, 
It  lights  us  for  an  hour  and  then — is  gone. 


IX 

Ah,  my  Beloved,  fill  the  Cup  that  clears 
TODAY  of  past  Regrets  and  future  Fears — 

Tomorrow! — Why,  Tomorrow  I  may  be 
In  Canada  or  Scotland  or  Algiers! 


Yes,  make  the  most  of  what  we  still  may  spend ; 

The  last  Drop's  lingering  Taste  may  yet  tran 
scend 
Anticipation's  Bliss — though  we  are  left 

Sans  Wine,  Sans  Song,  Sans  Singer,  and — 
Sans  End. 


The  Scanty  Stock  we  set  our  hearts  upon 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYYAM 


XI 

Alike  for  those  who  for  the  Drouth  prepared 

And  those  who,  like  myself,  more  poorly  fared, 

Fond  Memory  weaves  Roseate  Shrouds  to 

dress 
Departed  Spirits  we  have  loved — and  shared. 

XII 

Myself  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
The  gilded  Bar,  and  all  my  Lucre  spent 
For  bottled  Joyousness,  but  evermore 
Came  out  less  steadily  than  in  I  went. 

XIII 

The  legal  Finger  writes;  and  having  writ, 
Moves  on — and  neither  Thirst  nor  Wit 
Has  lured  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  line 
To  give  a  Man  excuse  for  being  lit. 


Myself  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
The  gilded  Bar  .  .  . 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYTAM 


XIV 

And  Bill  the  Bootlegger — the  Infidel ! — 
When  He  takes  my  last  Cent  for  just  a  Smell 

Of  Hooch,  I  wonder  what  Bootleggers  buy 
One  half  so  precious  as  the  Stuff  they  sell. 

XV 

Oh  Bill,  Who  dost  with  White  Mule  and  with 

Gin 
Beset  the  Road  I  am  to  Wander  in, 

If  I  am  garnered  of  the  Law,  wilt  Thou, 
All  piously,  Impute  my  Fall  to  Sin? 


And  Bill  the  Bootlegger — the  Infidel! — 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  OHOW  DRYYAM 


XVI 

Yon  rising  Moon  that  looks  for  us  again — 
How  oft  hereafter  will  she  wax  and  wane; 
But,  Oh,  how  oft  before  we  have  beheld 
Six  Moons  arise — who  now  seek  Two  in  vain. 


XVII 

And  when  Thyself  at  last  shall  come  to  trip 
Down  that  dim  Dock  where  Charon  loads  his 

Ship, 

I'll  meet  Thee  on  the  other  Wharf  if  Thou 
Wilt  promise  to  have  Something  on  thy  Hip. 


But,  Oh,  how  oft  before  we  have  beheld 
Six  Moons  arise  .  .  . 


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SEP  30   193i 


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861416 


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